


Complications

by WandererRiha



Series: Brokeback [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV, Final Fantasy XV: Brotherhood
Genre: Brokeback AU, Disabled Noctis, Gen, Sick Fic, cyborg prompto, gastric distress, non-graphic mentions of poo, non-graphic mentions of vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-02-01 01:36:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21317293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandererRiha/pseuds/WandererRiha
Summary: In order to save his son's life, King Regis made a deal with Niflheim.Noctis can walk, but the surgery and prosthetics to make it possible aren't sitting well.
Series: Brokeback [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1271228
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	Complications

“Specs…”

Ignis starts awake as a small voice calls his name. The voice coughs, chokes, retches.

“...Specs!”

Ignis bolts upright and fumbles for his glasses. He doesn’t bother hitting the light, just hurries through the living room and into Noctis’ bedroom. It’s almost pitch-black, save for the soothing, underwater colors of the night light. Ignis reaches and raises the intensity a notch so he can see what he’s doing.

“Specs…” Noctis says weakly, and starts coughing again. Ignis grabs the trashcan and manages to put it in place before Noctis throws up again. It isn’t food, it’s purple. Inwardly, Ignis sighs. It’s been two weeks since the surgery to install Noctis’ permanent magitek implants and he still keeps having episodes of violent nausea. Noctis coughs and spits, trying to rid his mouth of acid. Ignis offers him the water bottle from the bedside table. Noctis fumbles for it and rinses his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, but Ignis shushes him gently.

“It’s fine. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Rather than turn on the overhead light, he clicks on the lesser light of the bedside lamp. It’s brighter than the nightlight, but not so blinding that Noctis has to turn away and shut his eyes. It’s enough to see that this won’t be a simple wipe-down. The pillow, sheets, and duvet are all stained in slimey purple. Noctis hasn’t just vomited, he’s soiled himself as well. Given that he’s had bowel and bladder control for so short a time, it’s understandable.

The first order of business is to make sure Noctis is alright, and then to get him cleaned up. The bed can wait.

“What hurts?” Ignis asks, peeling Noctis out of his soiled pajama top. “Stomach ache? Spend too long lying on your front?” Ignis is reasonably sure it’s not that second one. His alarm hasn’t gone off yet.

“I dunno,” Noctis mumbles, doing his best to help. “I just felt so nauseous. Like...I even dreamed I was puking. And then I woke up and puked for real. Sorry to wake you up but...yeah.”

“It’s my privilege,” Ignis tells him honestly. Noctis gives him a wan little smile.

“Come on, to the bathroom.”

Ignis pulls on a disposable smock and latex gloves before stooping to put his arms around Noctis. Noctis knows the drill and puts his arms around Ignis in turn, doing his best to not be simply dead weight. Ignis isn’t as strong as Gladio, and hasn’t got magitek implants like Prompto. Noctis knows he’s not exactly a featherweight with all this new hardware. Still, Ignis scoops him into his arms and carries him the few steps to the bathroom. 

The bathroom is big and spacious, built to easily accommodate Noctis’ wheelchair plus anyone who might be helping him. There’s an enormous standing shower with safety bars and a built-in bench. There are grab bars around the toilet as well, and a cut out below the sink instead of cabinets, so Noctis can get his wheelchair under it.

Noctis is able to stand- holding firmly to the safety bars- long enough for Ignis to get him out of his ruined pajamas bottoms and what they call ‘paper pants’- a less demeaning term for adult diapers. Noctis convulses, clutching one hand to his stomach and overbalancing so that Ignis has to catch him.

“Sit down,” Ignis tells him gentle yet firm, and guides him back onto the toilet.

“I’m gonna…” Noctis has gone green and Ignis holds the trash can for him as Noctis empties his stomach. More purple-black sludge fills the trash can. From the sound and the smell, it’s filled the toilet bowl as well. Ignis reaches around to flush, and offers Noctis a second cup of water. Noctis sips and scrubs at his face. The trauma is making his eyes water. He shivers where he sits, cold and naked.

Ignis dampens a cloth with warm water and wipes Noctis’ face, his neck and shoulders, his hands and arms. Noctis follows the heat and gentle touch the way a cat follows stroking fingers. What he really needs is a shower, but Ignis isn’t sure if Noctis’ gastric distress has run its course. Odds are high he isn’t finished. He should get him a clean shirt at least, but Ignis doesn’t trust Noctis to hold his balance alone. Besides, he’s looking green again.

“Guys?” Prompto stands in the doorway, sleep-rumpled and confused.

Ignis can’t help the small sigh of relief. As much as he didn’t want the noise to wake Prompto, a second pair of hands is exactly what he needs.

“Noctis has a stomach ache,” Ignis says, knowing Prompto will recognize their euphemism for ‘puking his guts out’. “Can I ask you to fetch a shirt for him please?”

“Sure thing, Iggy.” Prompto salutes and vanishes into the bedroom.

Noctis has his arms wrapped around himself, shivering. Ignis can’t tell if it’s because he’s cold, or because he’s feeling sick. Probably both. Ignis doesn’t need a thermometer to tell him that Noctis is too warm, slightly feverish. Whatever’s powering his implants isn’t agreeing with him, though Prompto assures them all it will balance out. Privately, Ignis has some concerns about this, but he keeps them to himself.

Noctis shudders and doubles over. Ignis smoothes a hand over his back as Noctis voids more purple goop. There are black tears tracking down his cheeks and he won’t look at Ignis.

“Think I’m done,” he says miserably. “I feel empty, anyway.”

“Would you like a shower, or would you rather just go back to bed?”

“Shower?”

“Of course.”

“Does that mean you don’t need this now?” Prompto has appeared in the doorway, T-shirt in hand.

“In a minute. If you would be so good as to fetch some pants as well?”

“Sure, unless you wanna trade off?”

Ignis considers this. Prompto is stronger than he is, and Ignis is already wearing a disposable smock and gloves. It would make more sense for Prompto to help Noctis clean up while Ignis changes the sheets.

“Noctis, is that alright with you?”

He nods. “Sure. Whatever. Just hurry up, I’m freezing.”

Prompto sets the T-shirt on the counter and begins stripping off his own pajamas. “Hot water coming right up.”

Tilting one ear toward the bathroom just in case, Ignis leaves them to it. The bed is a mess. Ignis carefully pulls the corners of the sheets loose and folds them over the center so the mess doesn’t spill onto the carpet. There’s a washer and dryer in a closet right next to the bathroom and he dumps the soiled linens therein. Thank Etro for plastic sheets. The mattress is untouched. He wipes down the plastic cover sheet and lets it air for a moment while he disposes of his smock and gloves. Making the bed takes no time at all, and once everything has been replaced, he goes to see how Noctis and Prompto are doing.

“Everything in hand?” he asks by way of announcing himself. Neither of them have anything he hasn’t seen before, but it’s only polite.

Prompto’s got Noctis on the shower bench, hair damp and wrapped in a fluffy towel. Ignis fetches an extra one for Prompto, who’s still dripping. With their implants uncovered, they look like variations on a theme; different models off the same production line. Perhaps it’s uncharitable to think of Prompto in such terms, but fortunately, he can’t hear what goes on inside Ignis’ head.

“Thanks, Iggy,” Prompto says, accepting the towel.

Noctis reaches for him and Ignis stoops to lift Noctis to his feet. He helps him out of the shower and into clean pajamas. Noctis is virtually asleep by the time Ignis deposits him on the bed. It’s debatable if he’ll remember any of this come morning. Ignis arranges Noctis so he’s lying on his side, a pillow between his knees to steady him. He tucks him in, brushing Noctis’ damp hair back from his face and making sure the trashcan is within reach just in case.

“How long did it take for you?” Ignis asks without looking up. He can hear Prompto’s soft tread on the carpet behind him.

“To stop puking purple?” There’s an uncomfortable shift of clothing and carpet fibers. “I dunno. I didn’t really have a way to mark the days. It’ll wear off, though. It will.”

“I certainly hope so.”


End file.
